


Among All That Is Good

by VivaciousReadersLove



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Adopted Children, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humor, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Symptoms of Depression, supportive friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2020-11-26 07:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20926778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivaciousReadersLove/pseuds/VivaciousReadersLove
Summary: They may be a just a speck in the sea of all the students, faculty, and staff in Radiant Garden University, but they are still a person with their own struggles and triumphs within and beyond university life.Every chapter is a short story taking place within this universe.





	1. Hidden Distress

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I'm giving their majors, other than it may come in handy. Please do or don't roast me in what class Riku and Kairi 'supposedly' take for the one moment it is mentioned. I'm an average homebody with a biotechnology degree. But you know what info would come in handy? They're sophomores in college.
> 
> Sora: Nutrition  
Riku: Environmental Science  
Kairi: International Business

Today, Sora felt like the weather was a metaphor of how his life was going. The sky was a blanket of dark gray clouds, only luminated when lighting stuck, pouring down rain as if the local area forgotten what water looked like.

The only good thing was that he was inside one of the campus cafeterias with Kairi. Their usual booth was far away enough so the smell of wet soil didn’t smack their nostrils every time the door opened but close enough to the window so he could look outside. Good seats were hard to get, and he would be damned if he didn’t claim theirs at opening time. There was no way, even days like these, he wouldn’t sit in the same booth waiting for Kairi and Riku to join him for lunch.

“Helloooo? Earth to Sora?” Kairi waved a hand.

“Yeah, here, sorry. Got distracted.”

“You okay? Do I need to slap someone?”

He laughed, “No, oh no, please don’t. It’s nothing. Really.”

Kairi raised a brow with a look of concern written across her face. It was the same look she always gave him whenever she knew something was up. Last year, he would’ve been touched. Yesterday, he would’ve been touched. But it was today, and he was conflicted.

She sighed, “I won’t push it. You know I love you and you can tell me anything whenever.”

They settled back into comfortable silence, with Sora gazing out the window once again.

Even if he wanted to tell her, he couldn’t. How was he, the most optimistic person, the one who put his plan and drive into action, the one bogged down with _this_? He hated that he could open up to her. He hated that he knew what would happen if he did. She would take it in stride, listen, and offer what comfort, advice, or tough love she could give.

All he ever felt nowadays was an uncharacteristic weight, holding him down, enveloping him in some overwhelming sadness that no matter how much he tried to free himself, it refused to let go. Fortunately, there wasn’t a struggle to hide his emotions, except on really bad days. Sora was the reigning champion of “I’m Fine, Thanks For Asking” game. A fake smile here and there and a slap of false optimism to the face was all he needed to defeat Kairi’s oncoming suspicion.

All he needed to defeat Riku’s suspicion was…nothing. He won that battle long ago. How he felt about that, was a subject he constantly steered away from.

But maybe, just maybe, he could start with one thing. It would take three words. Or four. Or whatever. It didn’t matter. As long as he could keep it between himself and Kairi, everything would be good.

“So there’s this guy in my microbio class…”

She snapped her head towards him, putting her phone down, “And?”

“I don’t really know what he wants. I don’t want to say anything, but I feel uncomfortable around him. And it’s not like he’s done anything…,” he glanced over Kairi’s shoulder. _No Riku in sight._

“The guy doesn’t need bad intentions to make you feel uncomfortable. He really doesn’t even have to do anything ‘bad’, per se, just doing something that makes you feel like that is enough.”

He sighed, “I guess. I literally met him last week. We only see each other Mondays and Wednesdays. I feel like…I feel like we’re on two different pages.”

“So, what do you see him as?”

“A classmate. He’s asked me to lunch before, on a Tuesday, but I declined,” he glanced over Kairi’s shoulder again. _Still safe._

“To lunch? Any reason in particular?”

“Not really. I just don’t want to be alone with him. I’d rather spend that lunch with…anyone else, honestly,” he lied while, _‘I’d rather be alone,’_ mentally repeated itself.

She leaned in, squinting at him like he just revealed something. Sora knew what he looked like on the outside. Plain, relaxed, normal Sora. Maybe slightly uncomfortable because of this classmate/wanna-be-friends issue, but still in the spectrum of normal.

His thoughts, on the other hand, were circling wildly into the vortex of absolute nothingness. They were constantly shouting and repeating, ‘_No. I didn’t say anything,’ _and, ‘_please don’t be suspicious,’ _and, ‘_this conversation was only supposed to be one mini issue, not a look inside my mess.’. _

“Has he asked you out to anything else? I know you aren’t socially tone deaf. You’d know if someone had a crush on you.”

_Thank. God._

“Oh no, he has asked to hang out and stuff, but no, I doubt he likes me, like that at least. He always wants to talk to me. And I love talking, I just don’t want to talk to him. He’s opening up about some weird stuff, well, not weird, just, his own personal stuff, and I don’t want to reciprocate.”

“Do you think the friendship is moving too fast?”

Sora didn’t answer. He could see subject change coming in a matter of seconds. So what if Kairi was left confused. The conversation could wait. 

“Hey guys,” Riku popped in, “Sorry I took longer than usual, I had to talk to my professor about something.”

“How dare you talk to your professor when we’re sitting here, money ready, for Taco Bell,” Sora teased.

“Yeah, sorry or whatever. Here, I’ll get it. I need to move around anyway,” Riku said as Kairi handed him a few bills.

Approximately thirty seconds after Riku left, Kairi stabbed Sora with her eyes.

“Okay, what the hell. You went from upset to normal in a third of a second. I’m not saying that’s bad or anything, but you’re not telling me something. You don’t have to tell me today, or tomorrow, or even next week. The right time will be when you’re ready. And whatever it is, you can bet your ass you can tell Riku too.”

He didn’t meet her eyes, “I’ll tell him later.”

“Sora,” Kairi reached over and poked his cheek, “I’m glad you told me about the guy. Tell him you just see him as a classmate, not a friend. And about Riku, I know you don’t want him to worry about you, and he’s not the kind to initiate, or let you know he cares, but you’ve been best friends forever. Let him be there for you in ways I can’t be there for you.”

For the first time today, Sora smiled, “Yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks Kairi.”

Even though his smile was genuine, he didn’t feel any better. A new weight was added in the form of Kairi’s suspicion. He’d never completely shake it off. If he kept opening up to her, it would be days before Riku would know, and if he dared think about the possibilities of his reactions, he would go mad.

Eventually, Riku came back with food. The first few minutes were always spent silently indulging the first taste of their meal. Every second after that was spent simultaneously eating, teasing, joking, and talking about anything interesting that would cross their minds.

For a while, Sora forgot about his problems. A playful jab at his inability to figure out Facebook by Riku and Kairi was well earned the moment he had to ask for help on how to tag his mom on one picture he saw. Then Kairi dramatically retold the story about that one egotistical student in her entrepreneurship class because she was terrified about what would happen to her brain if he said one more cringy thing. Riku offered some of his sanity over, accepting being able to focus on his ridiculously dull calculus lecture as payment. Sora convinced Kairi that she shouldn’t accept Riku’s offer because calculus was for masochists who enjoyed suffering twice a week.

At least it was fun until Kairi left. It pained him a bit, but she had class, and he wasn’t about to be selfish and ask her to stay with him for a while longer. As good and easy-to-talk to as she was, she didn’t deserve the brunt of his problems. She had her own things to do. Things that didn’t involve his inner problems. His internal confusion. His turmoil. His lack of understanding why he was feeling _this_ and _that_. His lack of knowing what, even in the vaguest sense, _this_ and _that_ was.

Sure, he could follow her advice. Talk to Riku. They were friends since forever. There was no reason he couldn’t open up to him. No reason for him to suddenly back away and shun him out of his life because of this. No reason for him to not care about how he felt. No reason for him to be mad.

Talking to each other was what friends do. Sora knew that even in the darkest of days. His friends were the people who, without knowing, kept him barely afloat. He was the hypocrite for pulling his friends up, supporting, praising, listening, but refused to let them know so they could do the same.

Kairi would eventually find out if he didn’t act normal soon. Riku never figured it out even though they shared a dorm. Maybe he would’ve asked if he hadn’t played a perfect imitation of himself.

_It’s not his fault. It’s what I get for fooling him. It’s better this way._

“Hey.”

_Don’t ask._

“Sora,” Riku squeezed his arm, “You alright there? You kind of spaced out.”

“Oh sorry, I’m fine,” _please believe me._

Riku didn’t give him a look. Just extended eye contact, but Sora knew better.

“I promise, I’m _fine_.”

It was a lie. A simple lie that Riku could see straight through. His eyes burned as he recalled how his voice quivered, pulling himself ever so slightly further away to prepare himself for whatever consequence would come. 

“Okay,” he shrugged and started packing his bags, “Wanna go to the library?”

Sora, relieved, looked outside. The sky was still a blanket of dark gray clouds, only luminated when lighting stuck, pouring down rain, reflecting the person he became.

“Sure.”

At least the universe was kind enough to give him everything he had in spite of it all.


	2. Good Timing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lea sees who he believes is a clone of his son. At least that's where's he's leaving it at unless stated otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ages for reference:  
Lea = 36  
Roxas = 18  
Ventus = 19  
I would give fields of study/major, but that would spoil part of the story. Also, I imagine Mickey, Daisy, and Donald (first two just mentioned, last one simply appears) human in this story. Since they don’t play an important role, and I can’t imagine a human version of them, I don’t describe them.

Lea couldn’t believe what happened. This taking over Mickey’s University Physics 2 class was supposed to be another walk in the park.

Mickey asked him last week if he could teach his class for him, just this once. Naturally, he said yes. Who could refuse one of the most well-known professors on campus, loved among students, staff, and faculty, including himself?

_"Hey guys, I’m Dr. Ashford! Dr. Alcott may have referred to me as Lea, but that’s another topic. Just so you know, don’t be afraid to ask questions, alright? I’m all for asking questions. If you’re afraid to ask in class, I’m free right after class, or you can come by my office if you need a more in-depth explanation of something. Now, let’s get started…”_

He refused to go any further than that. Replaying the memory like a broken record was much better than the other option. If he was going to face that, it was not going to be in the middle of campus. It would be in the safety of his office. Or the bathroom. It didn’t matter. Wherever it was, that was where he would stay for the quickest, ‘_fuck it, I’m hiding here for the rest of eternity and miss my kids’ epic moments in life even though Isa would be beyond pissed if I died in a bathroom’_ session.

When he made it in the building, he took the stairs up six floors to his office. Bathroom breakdowns would have to wait until after impromptu office hours that hopefully someone would show up to. At least it would help burn off excess nerves.

With a quick turn of the key, he opened the door to his office, making sure to leave it partially open. The décor on the bookshelves, walls, and desk consisted of mostly warm tones to make it more inviting. His beloved frisbees were sitting happily on the shelf, offending him.

How dare a couple of frisbees look at him like that when all he could feel was the stress of confusion and lack of information? They didn’t know how it was like to see who he believed was a carbon copy of his son sitting in the middle of a class he didn’t even teach.

“Hey Lea,” Braig partially let himself in, “how was Mickey’s class?”

“Good. I’m surprised many showed up.”

He chuckled, “I’d consider that better than good. One of my grad kids, Henry if ya know him, does recitations for that class. He should’ve been chilling in lecture or whatever, but who knows if he does.”

“I think he was, but I wasn’t on the lookout for any TAs.”

“Sounds like he wasn’t. Doesn’t matter though, he isn’t much of a talker unless he’s in a small group.”

“That’s…good?”

“I dunno, and frankly, it all depends on where he wants to go after his PhD. Anyway, have a good one.”

“You too.”

Once again, he was left alone with his thoughts and a list of things to do and no plan on which ones to tackle first. So, in typical Lea fashion, he grabbed a plethora of sticky notes and made two possible plans. 

_Plan A_: Go through emails. Read and think whether you should respond or not. If yes, when and how. Draft up responses and do NOT send them. Read later before sending because you are a professional. Total Time: 30 minutes??? Pros: Notification number decreases; Cons: Will definitely think about Roxas Clone.

_Plan B_: Start reading one of those papers behind you. Make notes like always. Decide which ones help and which ones don’t. Total Time: Until lunch??? Pros: Total distraction from Roxas Clone; Cons: Takes a lot of energy.

After a two second deliberation, he settled on Plan A, subsequently becoming completely distracted by Roxas Clone. For whatever it was worth, he willingly jumped into the rabbit hole labeled ‘Roxas’.

It was a lovely Saturday eight years ago when he got the opportunity to meet a potential child in the orphanage. The lady, who looked almost but not quite as tired and stressed as Isa at the time, for reasons unknown then, was leading him to a meeting room. As they were walking there, she gave him the rundown of the child.

_“His name is Roxas. He’s ten years old and has been here since he was three or four? I dunno. He’s a quiet kid, has a bit of an attitude, but I think that stems from what happened last year. Long story short, his older twin brothers got adopted without him. We tried to convince the parents to adopt all three of them, but they only wanted twins. We would’ve turned them down if we weren’t so damn full at the time, but hey, what can you do. _

_Obviously, he’s upset about that, and became reclusive ever since. He used to be a pretty happy, snarky kid. Now he’s just…well I already said it. Besides that, if you can get through him, I think you’ll like him. Oh, he likes skateboarding…”_

It was a severe understatement to say he liked Roxas. He loved that boy the moment he finally got him to crack a smile at what was possibly the lamest joke in the known history of the universe. When he got him out of his shell and started bonding with him, he made it his sole mission to adopt him as soon as possible.

No, it wasn’t all good times. He remembered the worst days along with the best, and before he could start becoming emotionally overwhelmed to the point of tears, a weight crashed him back into the present.

Lea, as much as he knew Roxas inside and out, couldn’t predict how he would react if he learned that there was a possibility that one of his older brothers was enrolled in the same university as he was. They never had a conversation about whether Roxas wanted to know the whereabouts of his brothers, or if he even wanted to meet them given the chance. Was being adopted without them still a sore spot? Or was he over that? Would he even care?

Before he could go down another rabbit hole, he sent a quick text to Isa. Better to break the news before the drive home.

“Dr. Chapman’s office is right over here. If you do end up researching here, you get the honor of calling him Uncle Xiggy. No one really knows where that came from, but it suits him…”

He looked up, seeing Henry the TA leading a group of four students. Of course, as the universe would have it, one of them was Roxas Clone. At least Braig’s office was almost across the hall from his, so he eavesdrop.

Or, he could be a responsible adult and do some work.

“Hey Tiger, what are – wait you’re not Lea’s kid. You have a personality.”

_God-fucking dammit, Braig._ There was officially no hope of doing work until this was over.

From what he gathered, thanks to his epic eavesdropping skills he was sure Braig knew about, Roxas Clone was not the one interested in research. Therefore, he was either a physics major who wasn’t interested in research or a student with a different major who was tagging along for moral support.

Unfortunately, he was still without a name and approximate age, but he didn’t have to wait long for Braig to pull through.

“Now, I’m not letting your friends off the hook. Tell me your names, standing, majors, and a fun fact about yourself for funsies.”

Lea pulled out another sticky note. There was no way in flaming (or freezing from what Roxas ever-so-kindly informed him yesterday) hell he was going to miss this.

“My name is Dante…”

_Not Roxas Clone. Wrong name. _He waited with shaking hands for the innocent kid to finish.

“My name is Ventus, my friends call me Ven. I’m a chemical engineering sophomore and…I’m a fraternal twin? My brother is younger than me by eight minutes and is a graphic design major. His name is Vanitas, but we all call him Van.”

_Well shit. Both names too. Why does he sound like Roxas, minus the edge? _

Lea folded the sticky note into his pocket, breathing a bit easier now that he got an answer to his main question. A quick text to Isa, who still didn’t respond to his first message, reminded him that he’d have to wait until lunch hour to get some response.

Finally, he sat back and looked at the email with newfound concentra – KABOOM!

“Flamesilocks! Do me a favor?”

Four pairs of terrified eyes glanced back and forth between him and Braig while another half pair was giving him a hefty grin.

“Uh, yeah, does it involve invoking the fear of God into these kids?”

“As if. I already reached my quota with you, should’ve seen your face. Mind sending these kids over the faculty, staff, grad student, whatever lounge? Told them there was better vending machine options there under the oath that they wouldn’t _get the code memorized_.”

“No problem,” he said, fiercely ignoring the urge to roll his eyes and panic.

“Sweet,” Braig slipped out, “keep the change kiddos, I don’t need it.”

The walk to the elevator went without event since they mostly talked among themselves, only asking questions if it involved Mickey. It probably helped that he was going through his phone as ultimate distraction while going down to the first floor.

At the door to the lounge, Lea pulled out his ID.

“Wait, this doesn’t have a code?” Dante, or who he thought was Dante based on voice, asked.

He laughed as he unlocked the door, “Nope. Just ID. Dr. Chapman was just messing around. Now go look at awe of our selection and choose something.”

Ven didn’t spend too long staring and choosing what he wanted. It was enough time for Lea to get comfortable in a chair, looking through social media while being keenly aware that he was looking at him like he wanted to ask something across the table.

“Are we keeping you from work?” the only girl asked as she sat down next to Ventus.

“Oh no,” Lea smiled, “I’m looking for someone. Or a someone who knows if that someone is busy.”

“Someone who knows a someone?” Ven asked.

“A professor in the astrology department. I know there’s one who comes down here before going to the English building to eat lunch with his wife. He usually knows where’s the professor I’m looking for.”

“Sounds important,” probably Dante sat down, “I know Dr. Chapman said he did sometimes collabs with a professor in the astrology department. You do the same?”

“I don’t, but the professor he said he collabs with is the one I’m looking for.”

“What’s the occasion then?” Ven asked.

The girl smacked Ven in the arm, “Ven! That’s not our business!”

Lea laughed, “Don’t worry about it. He’s my husband -”

“GEORGE HURRY UP! DID YOU HEAR THAT?” the girl forced Dante and Ven up by the arm.

“Yeah I did, I’m coming Reese!”

Within seconds they were out and against a wall with a view of the elevators down the hall, forcibly handing him the rest of Braig’s change while they were at it. Any other day, he would’ve questioned them (Honestly, what college student doesn’t keep change they were asked to keep?), but today, he was just taking whatever good vibes he could.

Reese tapped his arm, “So why not just text your husband?”

“He’s pretty bad about texting back unless its lunch - even if its about the kids…it’s not an emergency though, so it’s all good.”

“Dr. Chapman said something about Dr. Valentine having a kid. I dunno why though.” George asked.

Lea hummed in agreement, “Probably cause when you first meet him you don’t feel like he’s gonna kill you. He has the sad case of, pardon my language, a resting bitch face.”

The students burst into laughter. He smiled despite himself. Sure, the ever-rising panic of Ven asking a question that could possibly make everything go to hell was eating away at him, but letting these students know that despite the ‘Dr.’ before his name, he was just another guy living life, made it all a bit easier.

“By the way, what are your – “

_DING!_

Lea snapped his head to the elevator from Ven and was never more relieved to see Donald shuffling out.

“Sorry, gotta go, that’s him,” Lea ran to the elevator, “Donald! Is Isa free?”

“I’m right here.”

In the three seconds Lea got Isa back into the elevator and repeatedly press the eighth floor, Donald babbled angrily about how he should let Isa go the vending machine first because eating snacks is a good thing, all while Isa awkwardly stood there.

“Lea Ashford! I’m telling you he should eat!”

“Yeah, I know, but here,” Lea threw money at Donald as the doors started closing, “Braig doesn’t want it back so buy some sea salt ice cream for Daisy or something, I heard she loves that stuff.”

Silence finally came when the elevator doors closed. Maybe a moment of peace was really all he needed. No curious students, no coworkers with unknown, questionable motives, no weird stuff with impeccably good timing, just a quiet walk to Isa’s office.

He relaxed in the chair across from Isa, taking a few deep breaths before meeting his eyes.

“Braig texted me ‘something lounge first floor’. I wasn’t sure what he meant, or what his intentions were, but I believe it has to do something from what you texted me earlier about one of Roxas’ older brothers.”

“Yeah,” Lea said, “Braig is always up to something for some unknown reason. Whatever, Ventus, or Ven, is a sophomore in chemical engineering.”

“Good. He won’t be running into the classical studies building for whatever reason - Xion.”

“Shit, I forgot about that. I hope she doesn’t run into him, even though he seems to be a pretty good guy.”

“She would believe it was Roxas at first. Then who knows what would happen.”

Lea sighed for the millionth time, “I hate this. I don’t know how Roxas would react if we tell him, much less if he wants to know. I don’t like it. Not one bit and its eating my brain away.”

“We can decide in the ride home. Besides, whatever happens, we’ll figure it out as a family.”

“Right. As a family.”

After a few more minutes of conversing, Lea felt lighter. It was going to be okay. Their family wouldn’t fall apart, Roxas would still love him despite it all, and perhaps something good could come from this.

Now if only there was a way to simultaneously punch Braig in the face and thank him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! It’s me Lizzy, and before I go on, I’d like to say thanks! Thanks for clicking on this story and making it to the end. You can leave a kudos, comment/critique, and/or good vibes (maybe bad vibes, I don’t judge) if you’d like. Anything and everything is appreciated. 
> 
> This. Took. Way. Too. Long. The original plot for this story was less than half as interesting, so I completely rewrote it. I didn’t plan to throw in some more KH characters, but then I threw in Braig (I didn’t want to use the name ‘Xigbar’ because that doesn’t sound close to a normal name you may hear on a daily and would be annoying to find a normal sounding last name) and Donald (I still can’t imagine a human version of him, but there’s some humor in that).
> 
> I would’ve made Ven’s friends someone from either KHUX or KHBBS, but since Radiant Garden University is big (40,000 plus students), with many of the KH cast doing different things. For example, Ven is good friends with Terra and Aqua. However, Terra is a junior doing Pre-PT, so you won’t be finding him in an introductory physics class. On the other hand, Aqua is a junior doing Architecture. You also won’t find her in an introductory physics class.
> 
> Now that’s enough rambling from me. Go have a great day! I’ll be cheering you on. :)


	3. Dancing in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I officially have nothing to write here. Major tears. Add a point to the ‘Elizabeth Cries Major Tears’ board. 
> 
> Just kidding. I wanted to note that writing a universe that combines a sitar (an instrument from India) and Taco Bell (my favorite fast food chain) is equal parts funny and challenging. The only places I set to exist in this universe, for my sanity, are the ones in Kingdom Hearts. That said, I should clear a few things up. The sitar, in this universe, is from Agrabah. Taco Bell was a fast food chain that started in the Caribbean. #logic #itried
> 
> I’ll try to be more consistent. With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this story!

_“You need to go outside, boy. You’ve been in here far too long.”_

_“I’ll go in a few minutes. I’m almost done. Just a few more tests and I promise I’ll be…”_

_“There’s more to life than research.”_

_“I know but - ”_

** _“Go.”_ **

That was how Ienzo found himself squinting outside the biology building. As much as he loathed being away from the lab, it was better than making a scene with Ansem. Besides, ‘outside’ didn’t mean ‘no working’. It meant hiding a notebook and a pencil in a backpack that was only supposed to contain a laptop.

Ienzo knew he should’ve felt some form of guilt or remorse for fooling Ansem into thinking he was going to rest by watching videos detailing fun facts about domesticated animals using his gifted ‘leisure’ laptop.

But he didn’t.

While walking to the campus fountain, his eyes adjusted, gradually recalling how Radiant Garden University looked like beyond the comfort air conditioning. 

Most prospective students came to the RGU for two reasons: a) it was a well-established public university, and b) it was pretty. He never understood the latter, whether it was due to his lack of interest in architecture or distaste for the campus’s ‘_natural aesthetic_’ talk. Everyone, so it seemed, was infatuated with the university’s traditional buildings becoming ‘one with nature’. If he were given the chance and/or heartless, he’d throw a punch every time a tour guide said:

_RGU was remodeled 50 years ago around sustainable nature, doing the most by combining its traditional buildings with biophilic architecture._

Ienzo sighed, shoving the thought aside. At least the campus fountain was nice. It was rectangular and surrounded by greenery the size of a small park, complete with all the convenient goods a college student could ask for. Still, none of it mattered because his favorite cluster of trees were unoccupied.

They were planted several meters away from the fountain on the long side, giving the perfect amount of privacy without sacrificing the view. He sat down against the tree, legs parallel to the fountain, took everything out of his backpack, organized it, and smiled.

_Just two hours. That’s it._

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes in and his body begged for rest. Exhaustion weighed down, trying to lull him to sleep, bringing along a stinging headache, burning eyes, sick stomach, and shaky hands the more he worked.

Still, he refused.

Science didn’t wait, so neither could he.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to concentrate. Each sentence of whatever article whose topic he long forgot became more blurred, made less sense, making him reread it two or three more times for it to still make no sense. The embers of frustration and rage were settling in the crevices of his nerves the moment he tried to decipher some figure (or graph – who knew). Somehow, he realized he was clenching his jaw too tightly, but the will or desire to care was long gone.

Lab or no lab, optimal physiological performance or not, something would get done. Rest could wait, as it always did. Something would click that would spark the motivation to keep going, which would get rid of all the annoying pain, which would make the two hours a great use of time instead of a complete waste, which would, in turn, make him feel accomplished and –

SNAP!

_Oh. Of course, I would._

Deep down (if he were being honest, surface level), he knew he didn’t pack an extra pencil. The emergency ‘need-to-escape-without-causing-suspicion’ backpack carried the absolute minimum because he never used it.

He checked anyway. Main pocket – empty. Second pocket – empty. Top small pocket – napkins?

“Hey,” a voice said from behind, “need a pencil?”

Ienzo turned around to see a man, guitar on his back, hand extended with a pencil.

“Yes, thank you. You’re observant.”

“Nah, you were talking to yourself,” the stranger laughed, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Will you be playing?”

“Yes. Only if you’re cool with it. I’ll be quiet. Promise. If not, I still have extra pencils.”

“Alright,” Ienzo faced his laptop, “I wouldn’t mind if you played.”

“Sweet!”

The stranger kept his word. His playing was quiet and soothing, and if he wasn’t caught up on working through exhaustion, he’d take a nap. Still, he refused. If research articles couldn’t be read, then papers could be edited or students’ free response from the last test could be graded. Soothing guitar melodies were just a bonus.

“Uh, dude,” the stranger said, “no offense, but you look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” Ienzo sneered.

“You look like shit? You’re shaking and swearing and I dunno, getting a _bit_ aggressive? Look, I’m not the kind of guy to cause issues or start a fight. I’m just saying what I see.”

“I fight with words, not fists.”

“Huh?”

Ienzo snapped his head, “Words. A healthy two-year old has at least fifty words, though I doubt you have that many based on your inability to do anything other than just sit here and play an irritating melody on that thing.”

The stranger rolled his eyes, “Fancy. What’s a smarty-pants like you doing here then? Shouldn’t you be in a lab doing whatever you do?”

“I don’t need to be in a lab to do work. There are times when a breath of fresh air is good, provided the company is, at the very least, mediocre. What are you doing here?”

“I’m always here. It’s quieter on Fridays since no one likes taking Friday classes. It’s always the same people every time, but then you showed up. And broke a pencil.”

“That was none of your business.”

The stranger hummed, “Just being nice.”

Ienzo took a quick, calming breath, “I should get going. My doctoral thesis won’t write itself. I’d recommend taking a public speaking class while you’re an undergrad. It would help you form a more substantial argument.”

“Sure thing. Are you taking Monday-Wednesday or Tuesday-Thursday?”

“Neither. I already learned the skills necessary to communicate with others.”

“Aww, I was hoping for a friend,” he laughed.

“The only friends I have are the ones in my field.”

“Ouch,” the stranger struck a painful chord, “That’s what you do? Judge people based on what you perceive their intelligence to be instead of getting to know them for who they are? If they fail, they get insulted. If they pass, you get to use them as pawns to rise the career ladder. Please tell me you have at least one friend outside your field.”

His heart dropped.

In a silent frenzy fueled panic, he tried to come up with a name, but failed. There was no hiding from the truth. It always seemed every time he forgot about _that_, something or someone would remind him everything accordingly.

No, it wasn’t his fault that he was the adopted son of the dean of biology. But it never stopped the gossip, rumors, or backstabbing, and it sure as hell didn’t stop everyone from avoiding him.

Perhaps it was better that way. They had better things to do, places to go, people to be with. They had the one thing he never cared to get – a life. And, if he were honest, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Why would anyone want to be friends with a dimensionless excuse of a person when they could have anyone else?

Yet here he was. Face burning in front a musical stranger of a man, unable to produce anything more than a whimper. Ienzo had been told countless times that he was hard to read. This man was reading him like an open book, caressing the splayed, vulnerable pages with concern.

“You don’t have to answer,” he said, playing again, “looks like it’s gonna rain soon.”

The song sounded familiar. Simple, tender, bittersweet. Longing for something once had, just like the scene before him. A beautiful fountain, once sparkling in the sun’s rays, became dull. As more small blankets of gray clouds came, muddying the greenery, more people left. Only those too engrossed in their work, chatting with friends, or asleep stayed.

And he would’ve missed it all. The sight. The music. The ambience they brought together.

Ienzo finally took a good look at the stranger. He looked about his age but with a (most likely) taller, average build, complete with light skin, dirty blond hair, and friendly green eyes. His outfit was casual: red unbuttoned flannel over a black tank top, worn blue jeans, and black converse. A stark difference to his button up and slacks, but who was he to judge?

The stranger was nice. In the end, it was what made him a better man than he ever was. The more he replayed their conversation, the more guilt sat heavily on his chest, refusing to move unless he did something. Part of him wanted to quickly apologize for the trouble he caused and leave. The other part wanted to atone.

Atoning was terrifying, but the least he could do was try.

“I’m Ienzo,” he said, moving himself beside the stranger, “PhD candidate in biology. You?”

“Demyx. PhD candidate in music composition.”

“My apologies for insulting you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m used to it,” Demyx smiled.

“You shouldn’t be. Mental, emotional, or physical degradation is wrong no matter which way one looks at it. It opens the path for separating people into categories, such as ‘like us’ or ‘not like us’ and ‘human’ or ‘not human’. No matter where someone lies on the moral or ethical spectrum, they are still human. Taking the spectrum away means excluding oneself from the easily achievable possibility of being everything one shouldn’t be.

“In this case, I assumed I was above you when I am above no one and you showed me nothing but kindness. Don’t let people, especially those like me, degrade your worth. For if I were to calculate the probability that the universe would play out as it did so the world could have you and me, I’d laugh and say, ‘close enough to zero’. You, me, the world around us, it’s all a miracle. And if I can’t respect you from that, then all I am is a husk, heartless and devoid of empathy.”

Demyx stared, mouth hung open.

Ienzo chuckled and closed his eyes, giving in to exhaustion, “Tell me about yourself.”

“Me? Oh, well, uh, I’m 26. I like music. A lot. I mean, I’m doing a PhD, so I must love it. It’s a love-hate relationship. I love it because I get to write music, hate it because graduating depends on it. You know that. Unless you’re a masochist and like writing your thesis. I’m not judging.

“I was originally a music performance major back when I was doing my bachelors, but that changed when I took music composition in the spring semester of my sophomore year.

“My life changed after that. I’m not the brightest crayon in the box, I’m pretty dumb to be honest with you, but writing music gave me purpose. Looking back, I think that’s why I spent the first two years of my bachelors partying.

“Anyway, the professor who taught that class is my advisor now. Great guy. Still can’t believe he accepted me into the program.”

“Purpose is good. What do you play?”

“My primary instruments are the sitar and voice. I learned both while I was a kid back in Agrabah. I can also play guitar, bass, and piano. I prefer acoustic versions of each, but I own electric versions. It’s always good to play around, ya know?”

Ienzo opened his eyes, “If you’re primary instrument is the sitar, then why are you playing the guitar? Unless I’m mistaken, I’m afraid I don’t know what a sitar looks like.”

“No, you’re right. I rather get this guitar wet than my baby. Okay that sounded weird.”

“It didn’t. I assume good instruments are expensive.”

Demyx laughed, “Don’t even get me started.”

More people started to leave, except for that one person on the other side of the fountain taking a nap. There was an itch to go over and wake him up before it started raining, but he was never one to say anything.

Besides, he was far too lost in the moment. The area had become darker but not ominous. He could still count the trees on the other side of the fountain. However, the faint smell of aromatics excreted from bacteria living in the soil mixed in the thick, wet air brought about a new mood.

Somehow the same simple song fit. Tender and bittersweet, longing for something never had.

“So…wanna tell me why you’re actually here?” Demyx asked.

“My…_advisor_…he kicked me out of the lab today. One of the assistants put up a sign saying if anyone sees me in the building, kick me out.”

“Whoa! Really?” Demyx stopped playing, “Man am I glad I got to see a rare encounter today. A researcher, out of his natural habitat. What will he do?”

“Oh please, I’m not helpless.”

“But it made you laugh. That’s a win in my book. I know what you mean though.”

Ienzo tilted his head, “Explain?”

Demyx gave him a soft smile, looking back at his guitar once before starting a variation of the same song.

“When I started my PhD, I was like you. I know, hard to imagine, but seriously. I lived, breathed, ate music. Everything I had I threw it into music. Pop song on the radio? Analyzed. Orchestral piece that students were listening to in a class I was a TA for? Analyzed. Music I composed? Analyzed and scrutinized by none other than me. Music is hard enough as it is, not even considering the toxic perfectionism culture.

“One day, I just lost it. My purpose. My joy. I couldn’t feel anything. Usually, I’d get out of these episodes by going head first into my muse, but that did a whole lot of nothing. Anyway, my advisor noticed and kicked me out for a week.

“In that week, I didn’t touch my sitar or sing. I kinda just went around town, visiting places and friends that I forgot to keep up with. One of those days, I made a day trip to see my parents up in Agrabah. Sometime towards the end of the week I felt lighter.

“Everything sounded nice again. That’s when I realized I was spending too much of my time working and not enough time living. I headed back and decided I should not be a workaholic. My advisor was happy when I told him.”

Ienzo smiled, unable to push down curiosity, “May I ask what’s your inspiration?”

“Uhh…,” Demyx looked down, “I’d tell you, but it’s…personal. Nothing cool or worth hiding…just…I dunno.”

“It’s alright. I understand.”

They settled into silence. The person who was sound asleep across the fountain was no longer there. No more than ten people, including them, were left, bringing a certain indescribable peace. A sharp difference from Ienzo’s mind.

Curiosity was making somersaults, grabbing every bit of information from their conversation to make a hypothesis. What could possibly be a composer’s inspiration? Sure, he could continue and try to make something up, but there would be no evidence. He was far from an artist. What did he know of inspiration? The best course of action was to try to ask again, but he bit his tongue.

_Have some decency, Ienzo._

A drop of water suddenly hit his leg.

“Oh shit we should get inside.”

“Do we have to?”

Demyx gave him a look.

“I’ve always wanted to do something. It’s…nevermind.”

_There’s more to life than research._

_There’s more to life –_

“Oh come on! Tell me!”

_than research._

“It’s stupid.”

“Stupid? Please, I’m the king of stupid decisions brought to you in full by dumb bitch energy. Try me.”

Ienzo met Demyx’s eyes, full of childlike excitement. Do grown, mature adults have silly moments with friends? With strangers? Probably not the ones he knew, but why couldn’t he?

_There’s more to life than research._

_There is more to life._

“I’ve always wanted to get caught in the rain.”

Demyx jumped up and in front of him.

“Wanna know what inspires me? Who am I kidding, I know you do Mr. I-love-science-so-much-I-got-kicked-out-of-the-lab. People. People inspire me. People and their nice-ness. People and their bitchiness. People and their…whatever-ness. I love seeing how it makes them live. I love seeing that guy smile at his phone, the couple in the café enjoying coffee and sharing a pastry, the family walking around in the park…

“I see all this and I can’t help but fall in love with the world again. And, while I may be complete shit with words, I can write a song. Yeah, I don’t know why the guy is smiling at his phone, how the couple in the café met, or why the family is at the park, but what I do know is the atmosphere they bring together. That’s what I write.

“And, while I’m brave, I love how this makes me feel. I love how I can’t describe it. You, the guy who was asleep across the fountain earlier, everyone who came and went, this place as rain started coming closer…it keeps me going.

“So hurry up and put your stuff up. First, laptops are expensive. Second, I’m providing background music, but don’t forget to listen. When it starts pouring, I hope you remember what I played because while the world hears silence, we will hear music and _dance._”

If anyone told Ienzo two hours ago that he would be dancing in the rain with a stranger, he would’ve politely laughed.

With fervor, he packed his few belongings faster than he ever had in his life. Right as he zipped his backpack up, the rain grew from a bashful shower to full downpour. As soon as Demyx was done packing his guitar, they headed to the grassy plains and danced.

Or tried to. Running and flailing about was a much more accurate description, but Ienzo was well past caring. When he fell back first to the grass, he couldn’t do anything but laugh. It took three mediocre attempts to get back on his feet. Three glorious, mediocre attempts.

Radiant Garden University was no longer the place he called home for as long as he could remember. It became a sanctuary in the middle of nowhere with a rich ecosystem full of messy beauty and wonders.

Moss shone vividly against the nearby walls, weak branches fell, leaves moved sloppily with the wind. Puddles formed at their usual inconvenient places; trees stained to a richer brown. The air was cold yet still heavy and full of aromatics that no matter how hard he tried placing their source, he couldn’t.

His senses were ablaze and all of the sudden he was eight years old, gently pulled into a barely structured waltz in his backyard without a care in the world. Living was full of sweets and spices that refused to leave him with anything but addiction.

He quickly pulled away when a hand raked his bangs back. He looked up at Demyx, confused.

“That’s how the other half of your face looks like.”

“What did you expect? Heterochromia?” Ienzo asked.

“Hetero-what?”

“Two different eye colors.”

“Ohhhhh. Uh. No.”

A clash of thunder sent Ienzo nearly toppling over thanks to Demyx flinging himself on him. He rolled his eyes with a smile before pushing him off and leading him to the biology building. Once inside, they hobbled to the walls opposite the doors and slouched to the floor. Dozens of young, familiar eyes, stared at them.

“Know these kids?”

“Yes,” Ienzo huffed, “Class. Dad. Advisor. Whatever. He teaches one. Intro class. Bio. TA. I’m the TA. Yes. TA. That’s what I do.”

“Gotcha. You need a nap.”

A nap sounded great. Ansem had a sofa in his office that he was ready to claim as his own. His gut told him drying off a bit and using a lab coat as a blanket would save him from scolding, however, that could wait. Ienzo pulled out his phone, unlocked it, and slid it right into Demyx’s thigh.

“I…,” he remembered the audience before continuing, “just put your number where it goes.”

Demyx laughed, sliding the phone back, “text me when you get tired of science.”

To his surprise, none of the students, even the ones who loved talking to him, approached. It was probably for the best, because if all 300 or so students were cramped up in the entrance hall, Ansem had to be nearby.

“Ienzo?”

He turned to see Ansem, standing tall and calm as usual. Perfect timing be damned, Ienzo was not in the mindset to think too hard about it.

“Am I needed?”

“No. I was just worried. I tried calling you to let you know that you were free to come back inside due to the oncoming storm, but you didn’t answer. Don’t worry. I see you made a friend?” Ansem pointed with his head.

“Yep! That’s me. Demyx, PhD candidate in music composition. Occasional creator of good ideas. I’d shake your hand, but I’m kinda soaked.”

“I suppose it’s you then who inspired Ienzo to put his bangs back.”

“He did not inspire me as so much _forced_ a hand through my hair,” he said, raking his bangs back in place.

“I did not! You know, it’s a beautiful day, rainy and all, but I couldn’t help but notice you never got the whole picture. Mother Nature had a memo written on the sky, and, like, you couldn’t see it cause half your face was covered – including your eye. So, me, being the good person I am, _gently combed_ your bangs back, so you could see the memo: business in the front, party in the back.”

Ansem and Demyx burst out in laughter while he and the other students looked at one another in utter confusion.

“That makes…no sense…”

“No worries,” Ansem said, “before you leave, come by my office. I may have a spare umbrella I don’t mind parting with. Ienzo knows where it is.”

“Actually, mind if I come by now? Everyone’s probably wondering where I’m at.”

“Not at all.”

His eyes fell shut as Demyx started putting his stuff up while continuing small talk with Ansem. Being outside and making a friend was wonderful and all, but he still needed a nap and hot tea.

“Hey,” his eyes opened to see Demyx standing before him, “you coming?”

Ienzo, heart full of everything he’d ever dreamed of, took the outstretched hand and never looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! It’s me Lizzy, and before I go on, I’d like to say thanks! Thanks for clicking on this story and making it to the end. You can leave a kudos, comment/critique, and/or good vibes (maybe bad vibes, I don’t judge) if you’d like. Anything and everything is appreciated. 
> 
> I was supposed to write another fanfiction in another fandom but I wrote this instead. Sorry Tanya, I’ll get to your fic soon.   
This has to be one of my favorites that I wrote. Was it because of character development? Or was it because I actually got caught in the rain once with my siblings and friends, but instead of being wholesome and play in the rain we were like Demyx and screamed and ran to the closest house? Spoiler Alert: It’s the latter. 
> 
> Anyway, I needed to find a way for these two to meet because, realistically, they probably would’ve never met. I wanted to give Ienzo a chance to be ruthlessly rude and find the error in his ways. I wanted to give Demyx a chance to be in the obvious right and call someone out on their blatant rudeness. Little things like this are always fun and remind me to shake things up.
> 
> Now I think I am going on another ramble. Have a great day and try not to get caught (or dance) in the rain unless you have a raincoat and rain boots. Wet socks are no fun. Trust me.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! It’s me Lizzy, and before I go on, I’d like to say thanks! Thanks for clicking on this story and making it to the end. You can leave a kudos, comment/critique, and/or good vibes (maybe bad vibes, I don’t judge) if you’d like. Anything and everything is appreciated.
> 
> Of course my first not humor fanfic if my first KH fanfic. I wanted to mess around and try to see what Sora would be like if his optimism was slowly being stripped away. I didn’t want to go into detail into why Sora was like this in here because I wanted to focus on other things (and I actually don’t know lolzzz). One, it may be easier to open up to one friend than another. Two, I forgot. I’ll remember another day. Either way, I hope you lovely readers have a great day and remember to love yourself. *insert heart emoji*


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